


Mockingbird is the Archer of the Forest

by Tamaru



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)
Genre: Goosefat Bill became Baelish, and he took care of the Stark situation, and there's like one droplet amount of Arthur/Bill, if you squint real hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 08:51:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13407720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamaru/pseuds/Tamaru
Summary: What if Goosefat Bill of King Arthur woke up one day and find himself as the Master of Coin in King's Landing.





	Mockingbird is the Archer of the Forest

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [【冰火+亚瑟王】【小指头相关】仿声鸟是森林的弓箭手 （短，完）](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/351819) by 黄村长 / 114. 
  * A translation of [仿声鸟是森林的弓箭手](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13651026) by [huangcunzhang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/huangcunzhang/pseuds/huangcunzhang). 



> From the translator:  
> so I've not seen GoT but I love Ritchie's King Arthur and Sir William so much that I've decided to translate this piece. It's very short but fun, and the altered plot showed so much promise - at least to someone who've not seen GoT ┐(´д`)┌  
> English is not my first language and I don't have a beta for this piece, so any comment or suggestion is very welcomed!!  
> Sincere thanks to 114 who granted me the right to translate this work, and I hope you enjoy it~

===  


  


01 Petyr

He woke up in a soft bed. The air tasted like fresh violet perfume. The clean and fresh smell made him hesitate.  
I'm in a brothel, he thought, or on the king's bed. With closed eyes, he lazily reached out to his left side of the bed. There's no one, no man nor woman. He turned on his side, and opened his eyes. Fireplace, side table, a room with the view of the red wall... Nowhere he's familiar with.  
Bill sat up suddenly, looking around the whole room. On the head board there was no sight of his dagger or his bow. He felt naked and defenseless.  
This is not my bedroom, nor the kingdom I'm familiar with. He looked out of the window, at the red and orange city and the deep blue sea. This is not even England.  
His maid walked in and helped him dressed.  
From her he learnt two things: first, he was no longer Bill, no longer the loyal Knight of Uther, no longer the archer who crowned King Arthur, but the so-called Master of Coin, Lord Petyr Baelish. Lord? Master of Coin? He mocked himself in his head. I should be the Chief Knight.  
His body was not even his own, although it looked similar. He now had greyish green eyes and an old scar stretching from the bellybutton to collar bone. All other skin were intact, looking way better than the body that had spent dozens nights in the Blackleg jail. This is strange, he thought with amusement, idly tracing the long scar. Who is this man? Is he still alive? There should be an arrow of mine through one of his eye sockets.  
The second thing he learnt was that tomorrow was the judgment day of the former Hand of the King.  
He put on his dark green gown and the mockingbird pin. He looked at himself, the smile reaching the corner of his mouth but not his eyes.  
Now here is a new question, he thought, who is the King? Uther or Vortigern?  


  


02 Ned

The moment Ned Stark saw Littlefinger, he almost forgot about his leg wound and stood up, anger filled to the brim of his chest.  
"Let us have some time alone." Baelish extended his hand towards the scarecrow-shape guard, something shinning in his palm.  
"My Lord, with closed door I cannot guarantee your safety."  
"A limping former Hand of the King, what harm could he possibly done to me?"  
The door closed. Littlefinger mounted the torch onto the wall. From behind Ned charged, heart full of wrath and pain.  
Littlefinger was quick in reflex, not like someone who didn't know his way with sword. He dodged, blocked Ned's fist, tripped him with a block at the ankle, and pushed him up against the wall.  
The shorter man looked into his eyes: "I just want to talk to you, my Lord. Now, I'm going to release you, so that we can have a nice conversation, and I strongly suggest no sudden movement. Today I'm a brand new Mockingbird. I can aim into eyes hundred feet away, or beat down a wounded wolf. I just want to know what is going on, and what kind of king we are having right now. You see, this's what happened to you after serving three different ones, forever suspicious of him being a blood-bonded wizard or a fire-quenched nightshade."  


  


03 Petyr

I'm not a good fellow, Bill thought, but there's not a lot of good fellows around here anyway, so it's a fair game. Feeling uncomfortable, he loosened up the robe collar.  
Ned Stark reminded him of an old friend. However, in term of stubbornness the former Hand of the King surpassed Bedivere by far. Obsolete, unadaptable, foolish... Bill commented in his heart. But to accuse him of killing the king, of treason, now that is absurd.  
Only Vortigern would think Bedivere as traitor, so let's see how is the young king of today doing. Bill wondered, picking up a dagger and toying it in front of his chest - had to keep the hands busy.  
Before stepping into the Great Hall, he took a detour to the brothel and couldn't find any boy named Arthur. The late King Robert left quite a few stories in the house and if he looked carefully maybe he could some of the bastards. This is not the kingdom I'm familiar with, he walked out of the brothel with a darkened mood. He should be standing along side with the other Knights of the Round Table, standing next to King Arthur. Now he was alone in the city called King's Landing.  
Then he visited the King, and Queen Cersei as well as Varys. The king had a bad temper but a gorgeous face, just like his beautiful mother. With his Goosefat skill Bill answered all their questions with their satisfaction. The eunuch looked enthusiastic, but his eyes revealed nothing.  
I need a bow and arrow, the emptiness on my should and back makes me diffident, he thought when he left. I miss the chilly forest, the speed of a flying dart, the vast highland, the fur from the Vikings, the sea, the mages, the snake, the round table, the ice and the frost and the mud... I resent the snowless South.  


  


04 Arya

Arya joined the crowd, limping between horse legs. Everyone was walking in the same direction, their murmuring driving her crazy.  
"It's the former Hand of the King. They are taking him to the Great Sept of Baelor."  
"About time to have him beheaded, the traitor!"  
No, he's not a traitor! She yelled inside.  
And then she saw Father.  
Lord Stark stood at the front steps of the Baelor, supported by a Gold Cloak on either side. Arya had never seen him so thin, his face revealling so much bitterness.  
The bell stopped, silence felt heavily on the entire yard.  
"Where is Littlefinger?" asked the Queen to her maids.  
"Lord Baelish was not feeling well."  
Father's confession had started. No, no, shouted Arya. She reached under her cape and drew out Needle. All Gods above, please please protect Father.  
'King' Joffrey spoke: "My mother wished to let Lord Eddard join the Night's Watch, and many time had my Lady Sansa begged mercy for her father. But they have the soft hearts of women, and as long as I'm your King, treason shall never go unpunished! Sir Ilyn, bring me his head!"  
From his back Sir Ilyn Payne pulled out a great sword. Ice, she realized.  
No! Tears fled across her face.  


  


05 Petyr

Bill picked up a fitting bow covered in shallow relief of pomegranate and golden cicada. He liked its body, light yet strong.  
They called him Goosefat Bill, called him Bill who have to take one more shot before leaving, called him Knight of let-me-have-another-shot... All of these names came from the fact that once his bow had been raised, someone must die. Bill could have the arrow go through your eye, into your brain, and then you fell, not even realizing you were died.  
On the day of the judgement, Bill found a good spot on the high tower. He wore a silver robe, stroking his goatee that made him look more insidious, looking down to the Great Sept of Baelor.  
The King, the Queen, the Grand Maester, the High Septon, the eunuch, the guilty Hand of the King, the daughter of the Hand of the King, the Golden Robes...  
Pick one, Bill, he said to himself. Maybe this is a dream, maybe this is not. This was your goddamn game, and now you need to wipe your own ass, if you want to live in this world, not by the rule of Baelish but by that of Bill.  
He drew full, the comforting and familiar sensation making his ribs itch. His arms were trapped in the dark-purple sleeves, the bow a beautiful arc.  
A show, he thought, and now it's time to see who puts on the most satisfying performance.  
Let's begin.  


  


06 Arya

The crowds began screaming before Ice was drawn down.  
An arrow went through Joffrey's left eye.  
The King is dead!  
Shouting broke out among the yard and people panicked in all direction. Arya tried to climb onto the steps to help her father but was pushed by the wave of crowds towards the edge of the yard.  
Father was once again taken away. The Queen hold the corpse of her son, wailing loudly. The High Septon rushed off the steps, shouting.  
"Catch the assassin!"  
Arya raised her head. Who saw the assassin? No one. Every ounce of attention was drawn to the Hangman. She didn't even know where the arrow came from.  
Arya started to run, towards the damp stone wall. If someone shot from high up, they had only one exit - through the cellar filled with humongous skulls.  
Arya ran as if her life depended on it. Father had told her that Red Kepp was much smaller than Winterfell. She had been in the darkness before, once when she was lost. She just needed to go there one more time, to find out the person who killed the King.  
Counted to eighty-one, her eyes had got used to the darkness. After a bit of dashing, she was again in the room full of monsters, surrounded by countless skulls, their large and empty sockets staring back at her longingly.  
With another turn, she saw someone throwing a bow into a fire pit.  
It was a man in silver robe with a mustache. He turned around and looked at her.  


  


07 Petyr

Bill was not expecting to run into someone down here. It was a boy, about ten, holding a very thin sword.  
Quickly Bill drew out his dagger.  
"It's you who killed the King and saved the Hand!" Shouted the excited "boy".  
A girl.  
Dagger in hand, Bill rushed towards her and pushed the struggling girl and himself into the darkness.  
"Quiet," he whispered, "or do you wish to bring death upon us both?"  
"You are the one who challenged a duel for my mother!"  
A hard question to answer, thought Bill. I would only duel for King Arthur.  
"Who are you, young lady?" Asked him.  
"Arya Stark of Winterfell, daughter of the Hand of the King. It's you who saved my father!"  
I have a feeling that I'm the one who got your father into this at the first place, wondered Bill. With the dim light he took a good look at the girl and found too much semblance between the two Starks.  
"You need to hide, and I need to be in the Great Hall as soon as possible." Said Bill, "You look like a girl who can hold her tongue. I will come find you after this mess, and for now you can hide in my brothel."  
"I don't want to hide in a brothel."  
"Once there was a great king who was raised in a brothel."  
"I've never heard of such a king."  
"King Arthur, the greatest king of all. I will tell you his story, but not now." Bill said to her, along with where his brothel was located. "Go, Arya. I'll come find you around there at night."  
"But my father is still in the Dungeon."  
"This we can discus later. He is still alive, and there's no jail Goosefat can't slick through. Now go, child."  
The girl started running, and Bill disappeared into the Darkness as well.  
Look at this mess, thought Bill with gritting teeth, damn you Lord Petyr Baelish, I'm the one doing the clean up.

  


\- FIN - 


End file.
